Let Sleeping Nerds Lie
by Aya-kun Rose
Summary: Real talk and cuddles during movie night. Ended up Barrisco but you're free to read into this as you will.


Barry's not quite sure how "movie night with Joe" and "movie night with Cisco" sometimes combine into "Joe and Cisco's movie night (and if Barry's around, he can sit in, too, we guess)."

The order of events leading up to tonight, however, are easy enough to follow:

 **1**. Barry opens his mouth.

 **2**. Barry dares to speak freely.

 **3**. Barry says, and I quote, "The fourth _Die Hard_ wasn't that bad."

 **4**. Joe and Cisco immediately vow to correct this erroneous opinion.

"I thought I knew you," Cisco had muttered darkly, betrayal burning in his eyes.

So now they're seven hours and just as many pizzas deep into a non-stop marathon of _Die Hard_ s one through four - it had gone without saying that the fifth installment didn't really need to be brought to the table.

It's probably two or three in the morning, and Joe's been sawing logs in his armchair since well before Justin Long presumed to show his face in this franchise. In fact, the offending sequel is halfway over and even Barry - its sole champion - is drifting off (putting away five pizzas singled-handed will do that to a guy), his head rolling on the back of the couch until it comes to rest on Cisco's shoulder.

Cisco, who has a brother, after all, has something quick and barbed ready on the tip of his tongue, but when he glances down and sees that Barry has legitimately dozed off, he packs it up and continues judging the film in silence.

He does, however, count the minutes. You can take the scientist out of the lab . . . .

Seven minutes later, Barry lurches to the side with a garbled, "Did I miss it?" His face promptly creases into a belligerent yawn.

"Chill, dude," Cisco says, "We have the technology. We can rewind it." He shakes the remote to prove his point (and in fifteen years of living in this house Barry's never been afforded the honor of hoarding the remote on movie night).

"I'm surprised this isn't your favorite part, though," Cisco continues while Barry folds forward to slide the last stone-cold slice of jalapeno-olive monstrosity from its cardboard tomb, "They're about to meet Kevin Smith in his stereotypical and borderline offensive-to-my-people mancave that, oh, did I mention, is his mom's basement. Tell me why you like this movie again?"

Barry's got half a piece of pizza crammed into his mouth, so his immediate answer is a sleepy shrug. He slumps back against the couch, socked feet picking out relatively ungreasy perches atop the coffee table.

"I thought he was cool, alright?" he says at last, waving a frayed pizza crust at the television.

Cisco throws the briefest of fits, arms and legs beating the air. The set of his brow is severely stern. "Dude, don't take this the wrong way but I'm judging you _so_ hard right now."

"Not-" Barry laughs, "Not the neckbeard, I agree with you on how uncool _that_ is."

"Okay, good. I thought I might have to get Caitlin to run a psych evaluation on you."

Barry drapes his pizza-less arm across his chest, sliding down in his seat so that his knees rise like gangly mountains. He looks up and over at Cisco, but his eyes drop just before he speaks.

"When this came out, I was just about to sign the next four years of my life away to forensic science. I wanted to do something important with my life, you know, to help people. But I already knew I could never be a real cop like Joe, or Eddie, or McClane. And then here comes this movie where this scrawny, awkward supergeek helps the real cop save the day using only a roll-up keyboard and the internet."

Cisco's smile is only partially needling, mostly proud. "Aww, baby Barry's nerdy millennial role model."

"Yeah," and Barry's laughing with him, "So I thought he was cool. A new type of hero for a new generation." The second half of the pizza goes into his mouth as if to keep him from spilling any more cheesy midnight revelations.

Cisco gets it. He whirls the remote in one hand. "But also you like the part where he kills a helicopter with a car."

Barry lets his lingering grin fall, responding to Cisco with a very serious, very intense nod. "It's the best part."

"I got you, bro," Cisco says, wielding the remote like a professional. Frames of _Live Free or Die Hard_ begin flashing by in reverse. "And feel free to bring it back in, man, this shoulder's for more than just crying on."

There's a half-grin and narrowed eyes directed his way, Barry shaking his head ever so slightly. Like he's planning on denying that seven minute nap where Cisco had served as his pillow.

Cisco lifts his chin, peering sideways down at Barry with a beneficent nod. He pauses the rewind just before the scene in the tunnel. "C'mon. I'm not hitting play until you acknowledge the serious bromance vibes we've got going on right now."

"Cisco," Barry whines, knees wagging. But his body betrays him, his shoulder sinks a half inch closer.

Cisco's not above playing the guilt card - never mind that he co-headed the joint task force that arranged this marathon. "Plus, as soon as he kills the helicopter with a car, you'll fall asleep and then I can pull the plug on this sorry excuse for an action film. It's _PG-13_ , Barry. I'm subjecting myself to Bruce Willis blasphemy for you."

He's either an excellent negotiator or Barry's really too tired to argue, because slowly but surely Barry basically falls to the side until his head is propped up against Cisco's shoulder.

"Yeah, there it is," Cisco approves, thumbing the play button on the remote. When all's said and done he has to admit that killing a helicopter with a car isn't really all that bad.

(And just maybe, late-2000's Justin Long is a bit adorkable, too.)

Joe wakes a couple hours later to a quiet living room lit only by the glare of the DVD menu on the TV screen. He'd assumed responsibility for most of Barry's share of the booze that evening, which accounts for his early exit from movie night as well as his current, acute need to visit the restroom.

To be honest, he does a doubletake when he catches sleep-blurred sight of his boys curled up together like that on the couch. Then he shrugs, punches the power button the television, and hikes himself off to the john.


End file.
